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I couldn't tell you
the lessons I learned
at twenty—
I was only just
discovering what it meant
to no longer be a child.

I couldn't tell you
the lessons I learned
at twenty-five—
my frontal lobe
had only just caught up.

But at thirty,
I can tell you this:
the most important thing
I’ve learned
is to love.

It sounds simple—
cliché, even—
but when you give
love,
love somehow
finds its way
back to you.

And that—
that is the fuel
that will fill
your soul.
6 a.m.
The alarm sounds.
Eyes open slowly,
Fighting the pull of sleep.

7:30 a.m.
Coffee in my mug,
I race out the door.
I’m late
Yet somehow,
There’s still time to think of you.

12 p.m.
The phone rings endlessly.
Paperwork piles up,
Fork in my salad,
The first bite pulls my mind to you.

3 p.m.
Meetings drag.
Click-clack of typing,
Emails constantly pinging
Until 5 p.m.
And my hands tingle,
Knowing it’s almost time.

6 p.m.
The pan sizzles.
The air fills with the scent of ground beef.
The door creaks open
My husband greets me.
The TV hums softly.
Bowls of pasta in our laps,
And still, I think of you.

9:30 p.m.
Water boils in the kettle.
A steaming mug finds his hands,
While mine search for you.

I open my laptop,
Eyes aching from the screen,
But I can take a little more—for you.

The mouse hovers over a small document.
Tea steams as the page loads.
I smile.
Hands rest on the keys,
And I begin to weave.
It's Wednesday.
A flicker of nerves runs through me.
What will it say today?
The machine that holds half my worth.

I worked out four times last week.

But you skipped a day—two weeks ago.

I've been eating 1200 calories.

Have you?
What about the late-night snacks at 10 PM?
What about the weekends?

The scale will see.
It won’t lie.

I get on, and immediately, I hate myself.
A 2.5-pound weight gain in 14 days
I want to starve
I want slit my wrists
See if it teaches me a lesson:
Eat less,
Work harder,
Harder,
HARDER

The scale mocks me.
I hate it so much,
But I can’t stop.
It’s an addiction.
Tell me—
What will you show me in seven days?
Will I finally be enough then?
Writing a poem for you
Is difficult—
Putting 10 years into words,
Would fill an entire book.
So how do I fit it into a poem?
When I could write
A hundred verses on your smile,
That brightens my day,
A thousand verses
On your laughter,
That makes my heart glow.
A million verses on your soul,
That was meant to find mine.
Writing a poem for you
Is difficult,
Because you are
The biggest piece of my world.
Sahian Lascurain Dec 2024
Every month
The drops of blood
Ache
As I'm reminded
I'm not a mom
Sahian Lascurain Nov 2024
I don't like
To talk about the day
They took you away
Because that ****
Hurt
But it happened
Heart ripped from my chest
A scar, still not healed
Pain
Never really knew it
Until that day
The look in my mother's eyes
Haunting
The questions asking where you were
Crushing
The unknown
Suffocating
I was drowning
No air in my lungs
The seconds passed in years
As I wondered
Would I ever see you again
The day they took you away
****** me up
I'm tired of burying it
I want to shout it
So give me a pen
And let my screams be heard
#immigrant #father #heartbreak #family #anger
Sahian Lascurain Nov 2024
Working for money is such a drag
When I would rather be
Dropping lines
About the earth, the sky and stars
Instead I grind
Becoming too exhausted
Too clouded
To put pen to paper
To appreciate all the colors
Of this existence
Working for money is such a drag
When my soul is begging for more
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